


Choaking

by enduringmadness



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 08:55:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11779722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enduringmadness/pseuds/enduringmadness
Summary: When Hecate sees Pippa in the hallway, and when scene cuts away





	Choaking

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written for a fandom in a very long time but I love Hecate to much not too.  
> This is just a drabble for a 5 second scene, might do others.

Hecate strode down the stone corridor, her pointed heeled boots clicking in a steady rhythm. Her shadow proceeding her on the wall. Voices from around the corner up ahead reach her ears and she slows; footfalls becoming near silent, a feat Hecate had mastered over the years terrifying students.  
-Ah- she recognized that voice,

  
“Mildred Hubble,” calling softly, giving the girl and whoever she was with, time to scramble about before showing herself. The pink figure was not what Hecate had been expecting when she rounded to corner. Even if Mildred was still in view Hecate very much doubted she couldn't tare her eyes away the one spot of colour in her world.

  
Pippa, the woman whose name had drifted within the sea of her mind for decades, rising to the surface when she least expected. Swallowing hard she turned to face the enchanting woman, a headmistress, but not Hecate’s not anymore. Ice cold eyes and a hard glare was the only greeting she received. Pain flaring to life in her chest, a heartache she hadn’t felt with such intensity in more then 25 years. Pippa had never looked at her with a face like that before. Hecate never could have imagined a look of hatred on the sweet face of her former friend, never directed her way. Had never thought she mattered enough to warrant such an expression.

  
Pippa could always be a hissy cat with the people who angered her. Many a time the bouncy blonde girl had defended Hecate from another student unwise enough to make a comment about the gangly girl whose long nose was always buried in a book within earshot.  
Hecate felt the tears threatening to well up, and shifted uncomfortably; perhaps she had been mistaken. Eyes roaming around the hallway, failing to remain away from her former best friend. Taking a deep breath in unison, Hecate clearing her throat and forcing herself to speak. Only Pippa could crack her hard-won composure with just a look.

  
“Pippa…” Her throat squeezing, shutting off the words she desperately wished to voice. How much she missed the other woman. The real reason she bailed out of their competition all those years ago. That seeing the powerful gorgeous woman her kind sweet naive friend had grown into, soften her heart to the likes of frog spawn. But nothing could work past the lump of raw emotions Hecate was choking on.

  
Finger flexing by her sides, fighting the urge to curl into fists of frustration. Hecate pursed her red lips together, eyes wrenching away from the hardened woman before her, blinking rapidly. Clearing her throat once more, she nodded slightly. This woman wouldn’t want to hear her excuses; Hecate had been wrong, leaving all those years ago had hurt Pippa as much as it had her.

  
“I’m… sorry,” It was said hardly above a whisper, “Well met, Pippa”

  
Raising her long elegant fingered hand to her forehead, shielding her view of Pippa, bowing slightly before standing there for a second rim rod straight. Turning on her heel quickly, Hecate made her escape down the corridor from whence she came. Not daring to cast a glace at Pippa.

  
Pippa, whose expression had shed its frosted exterior, as the emotions flitted over the strict woman’s angular face. The instinct to reach out, hug this awkward girl, now woman Comfort her and show her love was still there, playing beneath the surface. A hand reaching out as the black cloaked woman turned, but it was to late, Hecate had already made her escape.  
Slipping into its counter part, the pink painted nails digging into soft cream skin. Pippa stood alone in the hallway, the sound of Hecate’s hurried footsteps echoing retreating down the corridor the only sound reaching her ears. Matching the rhythm of her heart.


End file.
